The Decade that Roared
by opheliasnorkels
Summary: Sango, a cornet player, has been offered a spot in a pretisgious jazz band as trumpet player. Should she really take that risk? MiroSan, KagoInu, KaguSess. ON HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1

_**The Decade that Roared**_

_Chapter One_

1921, Chicago

-x-x-x-

The gentle tinkle of bells indicated the presence of a new customer. Hearing this, the storeowner turned to face this said person, only to find an unexpected surprise.

Standing in the doorway was a woman, drenched from head to toe with rainwater from the storm outside.

In actuality, women weren't rare in this music store. They came in all the time, with their children to buy their first piano, or accompanying their husbands to get the latest piece of music by their favorite artist.

This young woman was by herself, a beat-up instrument case grasped in her hand and a nasty glare set upon her slightly tanned face. Her voice broke the awkward silence by saying, "Are you Mushin?"

"Yep," came the hiccuped reply from the bald, and obviously drunk, old man.

The woman's scowl was immediately replaced with a relieved smile and she nervously ran her fingers through her thick, brown hair. "Oh, that's good. I've been halfway across Chicago looking for this store. That's the last time I take directions from that darn waiter," she breathed, placing the case upon the counter and flicking it open. In it was an old cornet, battered and looking like it was dented in several places. "I was wondering how much it could cost for you to fix this. You see, it can't play anything from C to G sharp. I thought the valves were just stuck, but they're all working fine. So, can you help me?" she finished, allowing the man behind the counter to examine the instrument that was in such poor condition.

After a close analysis of the cornet, the storeowner sighed. "Might a I suggest buying a new instrument?" he finally told her. "This cornet is pretty darn crappy and trumpets only cost about seventy five dollars. You can buy a new cornet if you want to, but--"

The conversation was interrupted when the sound of bells quietly announced the arrival of another. The dark-haired man that walked through the door, shaking his head slightly to relieve it of the water that stuck to him. "Hello, Mushin," he addressed the old man. "It really is pretty bad out there; I had to walk a couple of blocks, which wasn't really that fun at all. Anyway, do you have--" He stopped when he noticed the exceptionally pretty brunette at the counter. "Oh, hello, miss! Might I ask what your name is?" he stated grandly, approaching the lady and taking her hand in his.

Now, this woman didn't really like the idea of giving out her name to this pervert. She was just about to go with this plan, when Mushin said, "Actually, I do need your name, Miss. And your address would be helpful, too. That way I can deliver your instrument when it's all fixed."

Damn fate.

At this, the man that still held her hand in his smiled like a fool. Of all the luck! He had happened to walk in when a beautiful young musician was about to give her name _and _her home address! Seeing his idiotic grin, the woman turned nervously to Mushin and said, "Um, is it okay if he leaves?" She pointed to the lecher on her hand.

Mushin nodded and shooed the man away. He retreated to the other aisles, where he looked at all the newest instruments in boredom. "Now," the old man said, taking out some paper. "What's your name?"

"Sango Thompson," was the quick and quiet reply.

"And your home address is?" he continued.

After all the necessities were finished, Mushin told Sango that, if she would like, she could look around the shop and see what she could find. Sango had no intention of doing this, seeing as there was a lecher in the store that she thought had been eavesdropping on her telling of personal information. As she made her way to the door, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

"My god! That's the most beautiful trumpet I've ever seen!" Sango whispered excitedly as she trotted to the instrument and held it in her hands.

As she stroked the bell and grinned with delight, someone whispered, "Oh yes, that happens to be a very good brand." She whirled around and came face to face with that pervert from before. His blue eyes sparkled as he added, "And I never really thought a woman would take interest in playing the trumpet. Mot of the time it's singing, or piano even."

Sango snorted in a very unfeminine manner at this. "Just because I'm female doesn't mean I can't play an instrument dominated by the male population. Why," She turned to him and eyed him suspiciously. "Do _you_ play trumpet?"

He chuckled a bit then answered. "No, tenor saxophone."

She nodded slightly and said," Well, that's nice." Sango set the instrument in its place and made her way towards the door. The man she had been talking to watched her, a little hurt that such a striking young woman had to be so cold. (This was only slight however, seeing as when she walked away, he was rewarded with a very nice view.)

Feeling like someone was eyeing her, Sango faced the man and said, "By the way," At this point, her cheeks were so red, she felt like she had a fever. Why was she even asking him this? But she talked on. "I didn't quite catch your name."

"It's Miroku. Yours?" He smiled at her, causing Sango's face to become an even deeper crimson. "Sango." With that, she dashed through the door and crossed the street, a blush plainly set upon her face.

Mushin walked back to his spot behind the counter. "She seemed nice."

"Yes, very nice indeed," Miroku replied, stretching a bit and still looking at the door.

"Still," the old man slurred, still hiccuping. "You have work to do, so get to it."

Miroku sighed, casting his sight on his work and muttering, "Yes, I know. I'm going , you demanding drunk."

-x-

Sango was fidgeting again. Sitting in the chair by the door, she couldn't help it. That damn old guy (Mushin, was it?) told her that he would fix her cornet in four days. Well, this was the fourth day, and her beloved instrument wasn't here.

She ran to the window and glanced up and down the street. After seeing nothing that could relieve her unease, she let the curtain go and slumped back into her chair. "Sis, you really shouldn't be so nervous," her brother said, still reading his book. "That music store owner doesn't lie, even if he isn't sober at anytime."

"He said it'd be done today, Kohaku," Sango whispered looking out the window again.

"Sis, it's nine in the morning! There's thirteen hours left in the day!" Kohaku left his studies and rose to put a reassuring hand on his sister's shoulder. "It'll be okay."

Sango smiled at this. "You're right, Kohaku. I'll go upstairs and find something to keep my mind of it." His older sister quietly walked towards the stairs, but before she could make it, she ran towards the closet and grabbed her coat. Quickly slipping it on, she hastily opened the door. "But it never hurts to check!" The door slammed and Kohaku saw his sister sprint in the direction of the shop through the window.

-x-

'These directions are horrible,' Miroku thought, shoving the piece of paper back into his pocket. He'd been walking for over half an hour trying to find that Sango girl's house. Mushin's scrawled out directions weren't any help either. They'd been smudged in several places and Miroku had the sneaking suspicion that the street name was misspelled.

At first, Miroku was euphoric that he would be able to deliver the instrument to an attractive girl and get some exercise in the process. That all changed when he ended up taking a left at the wrong time and realizing his mistake about ten minutes after it was made. He then retraced his steps and accidentally walked into a pothole that was filled to the brim with water from the storms the city had been having the past four days. So, knees soaked and tired, he was about to give up his quest.

That was, until a familiar girl ran across the street.

Upon seeing her, Miroku knew it was Sango. He shouted her name to get her attention, but she was so focused on whatever goal she had in mind, that she just kept running. He had to practically sprint to catch up with her and tap her on the shoulder. This action finally got her back to earth and she faced the panting man who was holding her cornet case. "My cornet!" Sango shouted, taking it from him and hardly aware of the fact that he was trying to breathe regularly again.

"You really like that instrument, don't you?" he asked, standing up.

Sango nodded at this question and answered with, "Yes, it's my first ever instrument. My brother bought it from his band teacher and gave it to me." She pulled the case into a tiny hug then something hit her. "Hey, you were delivering this?" Miroku nodded. "Then you know my address?" He nodded again, his smile growing a little wider. "Oh, crap."

"Yes, and we'll be seeing a little bit more of each other from now on, Sango Thompson of 132, Sherman Drive," Miroku called out, walking away and laughing a bit.

'Well, that's probably the last time I go to that store,' Sango thought, telling herself she'd also lock the door twice from now on. As she sauntered back to her house, she realized that the handle of this case wasn't that of her cornet one. Frightened, she put it down on the sidewalk and clicked open the latches. As she slowly lifted the top, it was clear that the instrument inside wasn't her beat-up cornet…

But that trumpet she had seen in the store four days ago.

A note also fluttered about by the wind, tied to the bell of the instrument. Sango plucked it off and read it, absolutely embarrassed by the contents it held.

_Dear Sango Thompson of 132, Sherman Drive,_

_I hope you enjoy this lovely gift from a dear friend._

_Miroku_

And another damned blush crept onto her face again.

-x-x-x-

**A/N:**

Hello. This is my-name-is-pucca. Anyway, I must let you know that since I don't pay attention in band, I don't know that much about brass instruments. I play tenor saxophone, so I'll be okay with that. If you do find a mistake, go ahead and laugh at my stupidity. Here's an example of something you can say: "Hey stooooopid! You don't know squat about brass instruments! That makes you a retard! YOU SUCK!1!1!" I'll just laugh with you, good friend. Ha ha ha.

(I got all the names from my fourth grade yearbook that was right next to the computer. Pretty lazy of me, huh?)

Wotcher! It's me, Girl in No Man's land, who's co-writing this story and is happy because she's never written anything on fanfiction before! After much deliberation, we came to the conclusion that Sango would play a trumpet! And Miroku would play the tenor saxophone! (Wow, I almost sounded smart there!) I'm here to help my-name-is-pucca with all the band stuff, since she don't pay attention! However, my-name-is-pucca was the culprit behind this whole plot. We're going to reference a lot of people you probably don't know here, so if you don't, just ask us. We'll help! Also, next chapter ain't Sango/Miroku, it's Kagome/InuYasha, then Kagura/Sesshoumaru. THEN Sango/Miroku!

(Has anyone else noticed that my-name-pucca doesn't use exclamation points?)

Disclaimer: We don't own _InuYasha_. It belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. This cannot be helped, no matter how many episodes we reenact with plushies. --Sigh--


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Decade that Roared**_

_Chapter Two_

1924, Manhattan

-x-x-x-

Kagome was an overall nice person.

Ever since the ripe, young age of six, she knew that she wanted a profession that would allow her to help people. That's why she became a nurse and her career was running smoothly for a while.

And then the war broke out in Europe.

Feeling it was her duty to volunteer and help wounded soldiers, Kagome became an ambulance driver for the Great War. She transported injured recruits from the battlefield, bullets still flying overhead, to safe and quiet makeshift hospitals.

The war ended, after, but Kagome felt that she still had an obligationto the soldiers.

So, she gathered up the names of all the soldiers she had met in her time there and located the ones in her hometown of Manhattan. She would pay them a visit, check up on how they were doing, and lend her help to whatever they might need.

And she'd visit every, single one of them.

Kagome happily strolled down the street, humming to herself as she glanced down at the list in her hand. At the moment, she had visited most of the people and only one was left. When she read the name to herself, her smile immediately flipped over right into a frown.

InuYasha Heinrich, a rather…well, outspoken youth.

On her adventure in the war, InuYasha was probably the most unforgettable of the men she met. He was always snapping at people and using incredibly crude language. He treated her like dirt even after all the things she did for him! She fetched him water when he was thirsty, wrapped his bandages, hell, she even told him bedtime stories!

Kagome's deepened as those humiliating memories came back; but she sighed at her anger. Maybe he was just grumpy that he'd been shot a couple of times and couldn't move his arm when she met him. Yes, that was it.

Her smile resumed its place on her face, and she set off towards 657, Dunham Street.

-x-

'653, 655, and 657!' Kagome thought, finding the correct house and running up the steps. Before she knocked on the door, however, she took a look around at the neighborhood. Everything appeared so glum and gray. She received some glances at people, who whispered to their companions behind cupped hands. Brows furrowed, Kagome resumed her earlier plan and rapped quietly on the door. Five minutes passed and not a sound could be heard inside.

So she knocked again.

And no response was heard.

After about thirty more minutes of waiting (Kagome was an incredibly persistent young woman), she was getting a little ticked off. How inconsiderate of him! It was Sunday, he should be home, and he wasn't even answering the door!

In a huff, Kagome spun on her heel and turned to leave, but the sudden clanking of locks and a muffled grumbling stopped her. The heavy, forest-green door swung open violently and a fuming, dark-haired man stuck his head out. "What the hell is your problem? You've been at this door for thirty damn minutes! Why don't you get--"

"Hello, InuYasha! You remember me, right?" Kagome interrupted. InuYasha was unprepared for her sudden outburst, but quickly recovered.

"Yeah, of course I remember you, Kikyou! Don't be so stupid!" he shouted, getting ready to close the door again.

Kagome was shocked that he could mistake her for someone and be absolutely sure he knew her. "Kikyou? No. I'm not Kikyou," she said, shaking her head from side to side.

He stopped and looked her up and down again. Then he finally tapped his chin and said, "Yeah, you're right. Kikyou didn't have so many damn split ends sticking out the side of her head…"

Now that was just mean.

Kagome, appalled by the attack, yelled, "Hey! I was at war for seven months! It's not my fault I couldn't trim my hair in that time! I didn't have a mirror!" She placed her hands on her hips and stood prepared to watch him feel hurt at this remark.

"Yeah, that could explain your horrible choice of make-up, too," he sneered, all the while a smirk growing on his face.

Having no comeback to this, Kagome changed the subject. "Anyway, I'm not Kikyou," she stated, blinking back tears of hurt that would signify his victory if they were shown (and she would not let that happen!). "My name is Kagome Elizabeth Knorr. Might I ask who Kikyou is, though?"

His expression changed entirely. No longer did it look cocky and condescending. He looked almost hurt, like it was a painful memory, and, dare she say…

Ashamed? This all disappeared when he suddenly glared at her with all ferocity.

"She's someone who's none of your goddamn business, Kagome Elizabeth Knorr." With that the door slammed loudly shut. A crack could be heard nearby and Kagome looked to see the 'Home, Sweet Home' sign that used to hang peacefully from the neighbor's door now fell to the concrete, shattering the glass in the process.

As Kagome carefully picked up the pieces of broken glass and disposed of them, she talked to herself about the insults she would tell InuYasha the next time she saw him. "Split-ends. He's one to talk! It looks like he hasn't gone outside in seven years!"

"Actually, he hasn't," came a squeaky voice from behind her. Kagome yelped in surprise and spun around to see a little red-headed boy licking a lollipop sloppily and staring at her with wide eyes. "I haven't seen him go outside since he came home from that big war"

'What? Why doesn't he?' she thought, staring up at the veteran's home. She decided that the very next day, she'd visit InuYasha again and help him with whatever problem he was facing, then she'd insult him with everything she could think of.

Because Kagome was a nice person…overall.

-x-x-x-

**A/N:**

Hello, everyone. This is my-name-is-pucca. I'm writing this chapter all by myself because Girl in No Man's land is in Denver and doesn't have a computer.

Anyway, I'm sorry. I'm not much of a Kagome fan, so I kind of…had no motivation to write this. (Well, except for Girl in No Man's land screaming, "Hey! We have to finish the next chapter! SO HURRY UP!) Yes, that would also explain why it's so short, too.

I also feel that I should answer some questions that might come up later. So…

_**-If there was a draft, why didn't Miroku go to war?**_

Oh, but he did. His group just didn't see much action and was only stationed in France for a month and a half. He doesn't like to talk about it. (On that note, neither do I. Let's move on.)

**_-Why are there three stories set in different places and different years?_**

Because variety is the spice of life, my friend. Instead of having all the characters know each other and such, we thought it would be more interesting for you guys and easier for us. (And it's three stories for the price of one. Yay.)

_**-Why isn't there Rin/Kohaku or Kouga/Ayame?**_

I just never thought about it and I don't think I will write--

On second thought, yes. Hey, that's actually not a bad idea! Sure, I'll write some '1920's Rin/Kohaku' or 'Kouga/Ayame' oneshots in between chapters, if you guys would like.

Well, I hope that cleared some stuff up. If you have more questions, just ask me. I will update the next chapter soon. Good-bye. I must attend to my Tare Panda army. Mwa ha ha.

Ack, the disclaimer:

We don't own InuYasha, for it belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. We'd say something incredibly clever right now, but I'm brain dead at the moment. Sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Decade that Roared**_

_Chapter Three_

1928, Atlanta

-x-x-x-

"Kagura!" a familiar voice shouted. The woman addressed, who had taken the liberty of spinning giddily in her new chair the moment before, bolted upright and quickly folded her hands in a formal manner upon the table. A pale, oily-haired man marched in, waving a piece of paper in front of her face and yelling, "We need you out NOW!"

Dazed, Kagura could only get out a dumbfounded, "Huh?" in response.

The vehement man sighed and cried, "Sesshoumaru's back from the war, you moron!"

That got to her.

"WHAT?" She stood up like a flash, causing her knees to hit the bottom of the desk. She winced then hissed through gritted teeth, "That's not fair, Naraku! I just got here! I'm—I'm the boss! NOT HIM!"

"Listen, Kagura. When that damn war started, we put you in charge because every _man_ was gone," he said, throwing the paper at her. She quickly read it and gulped. "Now that Sesshoumaru's back, you'll have to go back to your old position. You know, as an assembly line worker."

-x-

That was how it started.

And so Kagura sat in a chair on her lunch break, tapping her pen on the table in anger. When it finally fell to the ground, she clenched her fists and yelled, "It's not fair!" The pale girl next to her set down the book she was reading and stared at her friend to listen to her wails. "I've worked my butt off just to get that job after he left! And then he comes waltzing back in here after ten years and I get kicked out! Who does he think he is? Must be because he's British." She scoffed and picked up her pen, beginning to tap on the side of the table again. "Probably tells himself, 'Oh, I'll go eat meh tea and cookies and fire Kagura who works harder than me just because I'm great and I was in the war!' I could have been in the war! Kanna! It just isn't fair!"

Her friend sighed and firmly said, "Kagura, as much as I devote my entire life to hear you complain, can you please shut up? I'm trying to read." She picked up her book again and opened to the page she had stopped at. "By the way, British people don't eat 'cookies;' they eat 'biscuits.' Plus his ethnicity has nothing to do with the way he acts."

Kagura was completely oblivious to her comment and continued to rant. "Stupid Sesshoumaru! He's such a jerk! He's probably fat and ugly and—God! I hate him!" She pounded the table with a balled up fist.

Kanna glanced back up at her, a tiny bit of shock in her eyes. "Wait," she whispered, putting her copy of Langston Hughes poems down for a moment. "You've never met Sesshoumaru?"

"No!" Kagura shouted. "And it doesn't matter, because I know he probably _looks_ like a jerk, because he is one!"

Her light-haired friend shook her head and stood. She grabbed Kagura's hand and led her outside of the cafeteria, where she told her, "On the contrary, my friend, Sesshoumaru does not look like a jerk. A snot, maybe, but not a jerk." Now the pair was right outside of the boss's office. "You can now see for yourself." Before Kagura could object, she had already been pushed through the door.

-x-

Luckily for her, the door did not directly lead to Sesshoumaru's office. Instead, she sat in a waiting room where a young woman sat behind a desk, diligently typing on a typewriter. Kagura took a seat in a deep red chair that looked way too poofy to be comfortable. She sank slowly into the cushion and all that could be heard was the clicking of typewriter keys. 'Stupid, stupid, STUPID Sesshoumaru!' Kagura's mind screamed. 'Oh, how I hate you. I hate you!'

Then the young lady at the desk looked up and noticed the ebony-haired woman having a bit of a fit, it seemed, and asked, "Excuse me, are you alright?"

Kagura stopped fidgeting a moment and stared at the girl. "Oh. Yes, I'm fine. I just came to see Sesshoumaru." She rose from the chair and walked over to the desk.

"And do you have an appointment?" the girl asked her.

"No…"

"Ah." Well, that wasn't good. Kagura wrung the hem of her skirt with nervousness as the woman typed something else on her typewriter. "Well, I'm sorry, but we can't allow anyone in without a scheduled appointment."

"Really?" Although most would be upset at this comment, but Kagura was most happy. She wouldn't have to face the moronic (STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!) snob that had taken her job away from her. "Well, I guess I'll run along then. Good-by--"

Then the girl asked, "But you aren't Kagura Murphy, are you?"

That question caught Kagura off-guard, but she gave a stuttered, "Yes, I am," in response.

"Oh, then never mind what I said before!" The typing woman beamed. "Sesshoumaru actually wanted to talk to you today, anyway!"

"Huh?"

"Please, right through this door!" Again, Kagura was being pushed against her will to see some guy that she didn't even know. Or want to know for that matter!

'Oh, when I see that damn guy, I'm going to wring him a new one! Yes!' Kagura grinned in malicious delight. 'Nothing is going to stop me!'

The young girl flung the door open and loudly introduced the worker. "Sesshoumaru, sir! Kagura Murphy is here to see you!"

"Thank you, Rin," was the calm reply. Rin nodded and turned to Kagura, practically demanding that she go in. Kagura did just that when the young woman glared at her for not being as fast at this task as she would want.

The room was surprisingly dark and maroon. It looked extremely elegant and noble-like, which was probably used to intimidate workers when they were fired! Kagura groaned when she saw another uncomfortable and puffed-up chair that was designated for the visitor to sit in. Great, now she really hated this guy.

But what really confused her was the fact that this Sesshoumaru guy wasn't even facing her! He had his 'high-and-mighty' chair towards the wall and all she could see was the top of his head, which was a surprising color of whitish-blonde. 'Huh. So the jerk's a weirdo, too,' Kagura scoffed inwardly.

Her thoughts her interrupted when Sesshoumaru said, "What is it you need Kagura?"

'Huh, weird. Didn't he say she wanted to see her?' Kagura thought.

Well, anyway…

Now was her chance! She was ready to insult this jerk into the next millennium and she planned to make him cry! Clearing her throat, she began her long list of disrespect with, "Sesshoumaru, you know that you took my job when you came back from the Great War, hmm?"

The only response she received was an agreeing mumble. The jerk!

"And," she continued, a little more ticked than she had been when she started. "I just have some things to say to you." As she heard him about to rise from his chair, she thought that she should get started with her fabulous insulting comments that could make anyone want to whimper in fear! Mwa ha ha! "I believe that you're a great, big--"

And then she saw the two things that could make anyone stop in their tracks.

He wasn't fat or ugly.

In fact, he was pretty darn handsome.

That was also the moment she realized something a bit more tragic.

Sesshoumaru had only one arm.

Great, now Kagura felt like an ass and had become incredibly self-conscious in all but two seconds.

And she wondered what the rest of her day would be like…

-x-x-x-

**A/N:**

**Girl in No Man's land**: Oh looky! It's Kanna of the AU fanfic! Otherwise known as 'my-name-is-pucca' incarnated! Why don't you talk at school, anyway? And why is it when you DO talk, you're mean to people?

**My-name-is-pucca**: …Because I don't like anyone in my classes.

**Girl in No Man's land**: Huh. Anyway, I hardly wrote anything for this chapter. 'My-name-is-pucca' thought it might be a good idea to have Sesshoumaru loose his arm, since so many people forget about it in AU fanfics.

**My-name-is-pucca**: And we wrote a Rin/Kohaku 1920s oneshot if anyone cares…

**Girl in No Man's land**: We shall post it after the next Sango/Miroku chapter!

**My-name-is-pucca**: Stay tuned, good friends.


	4. Chapter 4

_**The Decade that Roared**_

_Chapter Four_

1921, Chicago

-x-x-x-

The familiar sound of tinkling bells was replaced with a violent ringing as a fuming woman entered the shop and flung the door closed. Miroku looked up from his reading and smiled mischievously. "Ah," he said, setting the newspaper on the wooden counter, "I see you got my gift." The brunette stepped up to the counter and stood before it, her foot tapping the floor rhythmically, creating a steady beat as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Well considering the fact you handed the thing to me, yeah, I'd have to say I did." Sango lifted the flawless trumpet case and slammed it onto the counter top. "Where's my cornet?" she asked through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing with anger. She looked the young man straight in the eye. Miroku wanted desperately to look away, but he didn't want to give off the impression that he was frightened by this girl's anger...although he was.

"Miss Thompson," he said in his most charming voice, "I must admit that it is rather rude to damage a gift such as this." As he pointed to the trumpet case, he took a quick glance down, thus noticing a crack running up the case's side, and winced.

"Personally," Sango spat. "I find it rude not to heed to your customer's request. I asked you to fix my horn! Not give me a new one, jelly no less!" As she spoke, her eyes scanned the shelves for her treasured instrument.

"Your horn was to beat to even play, kiddo. There wasn't much I could do for it. Couldn't pull any armstrongs at all," He said, finishing this declaration with a sigh.

Sango rolled her eyes at this. "Don't you think I know that? Why else would I have brought it in here?"

"Look kid, all I know is, you can't be in any band with a horn like that." Miroku leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the counter.

Sango looked taken aback. "Who said I was in a band?" Now she was having a hard time controlling her anger. A few more wrong words and this guy was gonna have to find himself a new head.

Miroku smiled his annoying (yet, Sango had to admit, attractive) smile again. "So you aren't in a band?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Then why do you play?" he gestured toward the cracked trumpet case.

"Because I feel like it!" she shouted.

"Ha, that's an offtime jive and you know it. Really," Miroku asked, as he steepled his fingers together, looking much like an Italian mob boss, what with his black Fedora and all. "Why do you play?"

Sango was getting really sick of this. She leaned in closer so she was about an inch away from Miroku's face (he had, by this point, leaned closer too,) and said in a low, dangerous voice, "If you don't give me my horn back right now, I swear to god I'll jam a thirty-nine foot metal pole all the way through your left raise. You got me?"

Miroku simply laughed at this threat of bodily harm. "I don't know why you want that thing back so much. I mean, come on, a gal like you deserves better."

"Quit slidin' your jib; you're bad at it," was the quick and harsh reply. She rolled her eyes as she watched him twist a key in a lock underneath his feet."

"Shoot, kid, that hurts." Miroku held a hand to his chest, pretending to look offended at the insult. He handed her the battered cornet case. "Here y'are ma'am."

Sango took the case without question. "Thanks," she mumbled while throwing a couple bills on the counter and turning to leave.

"But as I have said before," Miroku began, "You can't be in a band with a horn like yours."

Sango turned back to face him, finding him to be standing. "And as I have said before, I ain't in a band." she turned to leave again.

"Do you want to be?" Miroku called.

Sango stopped dead in her tracks. "What did you say?"

He laughed. "I said, 'Do you wanna be?'"

"Why are you asking me this?" She glared hard at him when she was forced to turn around again. This time, there was a very broad grin playing across the man's face.

Without missing a beat, Miroku said, "Because I have a little...proposition for you..."

-x-

The words hung in her head the entire day. "I have a little…proposition for you. How about you quit playing your cornet, and try trumpet. If you really don't like it, go ahead and keep playing that beat-up thing."

"But if you find that trumpet suits you the best, how about joining a band. And not just any band, Miss Thompson, but a jazz band, my band."

Sango stared out the window, watching the people pass by in the watery streets. The rain tapped feverishly at the glass and she looked down at her worn-out instrument. It _was_ time for her to move on, after all. She couldn't expect to amount to anything playing that piece-of-crap cornet of hers.

That last thought made Sango shake her head. What was she thinking? A career as a trumpeter was positively ridiculous! Hardly any of the aspiring musician made it to the top, and most of those people had a lot more experience than she did.

She was just a low class woman playing a cornet. What kind of people would think twice about letting her perform?

And then Sango thought about Miroku. Well, he was a well-to-do person who thought it might be a good idea to actually let her play in his band! It would have been great (no, utterly stupendous!) if she made a name for herself through that…

…But it was such a risk! She couldn't afford it.

Kohaku raced down the stairs and headed towards the door, pulling on his coat and staring at his older sister. After successfully getting his coat on and opening the front door, Sango asked, "Kohaku, where are you going?"

Her younger brother stopped his departure to answer her. "I'm going to Rin's house and asking her if she wants to go to the park tomorrow."

"Rin?" Sango raised her eyebrows and said, "Isn't that the girl you like?" He nodded, a blush covering his freckled face. "Kohaku, what's going to happen if she turns you down? Are you sure you want to do that?"

Kohaku opened and closed his mouth a couple of times in thought before finally coming up with his reply. "Well, we all have to take risks sometimes."

Now that caught her off guard.

As her brother dashed out the doorway onto the stormy sidewalk, Sango was trying to convince herself that taking this offer was probably going to be the worst mistake she could make!

And the other side of her brain was retaliating with the fact that she was out of money, her job was most likely going to have to lay her off, and that the trumpet and the lessons were free…

Sango had made her decision.

Grabbing the cornet and a jacket, Sango slid her arms into the sleeves and stood up, dusting herself off lastly. Her cat came dawdling near the couch and she patted its head. "Well, Kirara…Kohaku's right. We do need to take risks, don't we?"

-x-x-x-

A/N from Girl in No Man's Land

Alright kids. I wrote this chappie! Actually, no my-name-is-pucca (but she's not here since she's at the Reader's Digest Word Power Challenge thing and left me all by myself) wrote most of the beginning, I simply filled in the rest. Okay, so if you have noticed, there are a lot of funky words and phrases in this chapter, like, 'jelly' and 'armstrongs' and 'slidin' your jib', and stuff. Well, if you know what these words mean, kudos to you. If you don't, well that's what I am here for. Here are the words and their definitions in no particular order:

JELLY: (N) anything free or on the house.

ARMSTRONGS: (N) musical notes in the upper register (haha these were named after Louis Armstrong you know...I think...)

OFFTIME JIVE: (N) sorry excuse

LEFT RAISE: (N) left side

SLIDIN' (slide) YOUR JIB: (V) to talk freely. In this chapter, it simply means to talk.

Yeah. There are more...many more that will probably be used throughout the story, but for now, those are all you have to worry about.

CHEERS!

My-name-is-pucca's added on comment: Ack, it's short. Sorry about that. Okay, well, next chapter will not be the Kagome/InuYasha chapter, as you all had expected. It shall be the Kohaku/Rin fluffy oneshot thing.

And I bought Fedora at the Goodwill for three bucks. Laugh at my poverty.


End file.
